


Diagnosis

by Mintacia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Deviates from series, F/M, Feel-good, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Marichat, Primarily based on season 1, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-04-24 02:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19163659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintacia/pseuds/Mintacia
Summary: Small, unimportant things keep catching Marinette's attention. She's can't help but notice the way Alya effortlessly twirls her pencil with one hand, the way Nino adjusts his glasses with two hands, and the way that Adrien stretches like a cat in the sun. These little actions are strange and yet familiar at the same time.The more she thinks about it, the worse her headache gets. It's as if the headache is trying to tell her stop thinking about it.





	1. Strange

**- **⚕** \- ⚕ - **⚕** -** 

 

The fluorescent lights were too bright. Squinting didn’t help much, but Marinette did it anyways. Half-blind, she walked into the classroom.

The classroom was much too loud. Pencils and paper were shuffling, shoes scuffling, and her friends were calling to her, greeting her with excitement. “Hey Marinette,” they said, “welcome back.” They bombarded her with questions as she climbed up the stairs to her desk. Asking about her health, her week off, her head. She smiled weakly, gave noncommittal answers ( _I’m okay, it was fine, it’s okay_ ), and concentrated on getting to her seat.

Alya’s voice joined the chatter as soon as Marinette sat down. “How’s your head?” Her best friend asked.

“It’s alright,” Marinette lied.

“Good, I’m glad,” said Alya, “I’ve missed you, girlie.”

“Me too,” said Marinette. That wasn’t a lie. The week that she’d been stuck at home had been painfully boring. Her parents had taken her computer and her phone and had limited Alya to a short visit each afternoon.

Although, even if her parents hadn’t taken her electronics, Marinette doubted she would have used them. She finally had her phone back, tucked reassuringly into her jacket’s pocket, but she could barely stand to look at it. The bright light from the screen was worse than the classroom’s bright lights. Thankfully, both the Mr. Fu and the civilian doctor her parents had taken to her had assured her that her light sensitivity would go away before too long.

Marinette wasn’t sure how long too long was, though. It already felt like too long, what with nearly a week having passed. Marinette was a 21st century teenager. She wasn’t used to being so completely removed from her technology.

Something soft poked into her shoulder. Turning around, Marinette found two boys smiling at her. “Hey, welcome back, Marinette,” said Nino, waving his pencil at her.

“Yea, welcome back,” repeated Adrien. He was smiling at her, his green eyes locked with hers. Marinette almost forgot how to breath.

Cheeks coloring, she politely replied, “Oh, thanks guys. It’s good to be back.” Adrien’s smile grew stronger and Marinette’s heart fluttered.

Four, long years. Somehow, despite four, long years, Marinette hadn’t managed to get used to Adrien’s attention. She still blushed like a little girl. It was, honestly, silly. The four of them - Marinette, Adrien, Nino, and Alya - had become a close knit circle of friends. Why, on the first day of senior year, Marinette and Alya had nearly gotten into a catfight with Chloé and her hench-friends over the seats in front of Adrien and Nino.

They were like the three musketeers. Only, there were four of them. Also, two of them were dating. Some time in junior year, Alya and Nino realized they were two halves of a magnet and came clashing together.

“Did Alya tell you what happened on Wednesday?” Nino asked, grinning. His voice was a bit too loud, echoing sharply in Marinette’s ears, but she smiled regardless.

“No, what happened?”

“Oh ho ho, let me tell this story!” Alya scoffed excitedly, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “So, on Wednesday, the devil - oh, I mean, Chloé, _whoops_ \- thought that she could sit in your chair.”

Marinette listened, giggling as Alya launched into her semi-dramatic story. _I’ve missed being here_ , she thought. Sure, the classroom was too noisy and too bright for her poor brain, but her friends were here. And, after a week at home, Marinette felt socially starved.

Finally, Marinette was back, exactly where she wanted to be: surrounded by her friends.

It was there, surrounded by her friends, listening to Alya tell a story with a voice that was a wee bit too loud, that Marinette experienced a strange thing.

Alya was smack dab in the middle of her story when she suddenly stopped. Mid-sentence, Alya clamped her mouth shut and her head tilted a few degrees to the side. Then, her eyes seemed to zero in on the classroom door. It was like a predator focusing in on prey.

For some reason, this movement seemed oddly familiar to Marinette. Although, she couldn’t quite place why. She couldn’t recall ever seeing Alya do such a thing before.

Marinette’s head began to ache.

“Hm, I’ll tell you more after math class, okay?” said Alya suddenly.

Before Marinette could ask, _why the wait_ , the classroom’s door opened and their teacher walked in. Papers and pencils shuffled as students got themselves ready to learn. Marinette, on the other hand, was looking between Alya and the teacher. She had a feeling, a feeling like she was missing something, something big. However, as that feeling grew, so did her headache.

But then class started, and the teacher’s loud voice interrupted Marinette’s confusing thoughts. After giving her head a quick shake, Marinette focused on tolerating the cacophony around her.

 

****\- - ⚕ - -** **

 

Lunch was better. The world outside was cloudy and quiet. Marinette found herself with the other musketeers in the shade of their favorite tree, food spread in front of them.

“Seriously?” Alya said, incredulously, “Your father hasn’t taken a vacation in eight years?”

“Yea, or maybe even longer,” Adrien replied, his fingers playing with tab of his soda thoughtfully, “that’s why it was so surprising. He’s…” Rubbing the back of his head, Adrien sighed. It was as if he was struggling to find the right words, “... getting better.”

“Better,” Nino echoed, a small, empathetic smile pulling up at his lips.

“Yea, better,” agreed Adrien, his eyes glazed a bit, “he’s been… asking about my day recently. And I think it’s honest. Like, he’s trying to be a good father.”

“That’s wonderful,” Marinette couldn’t help but gasp. She, like Nino and Alya, were more than aware of Adrien’s struggles with his father. For most of his son’s teenage years, Gabriel Agreste had been cold and distant.

“Yeah dude, that’s awesome,” Nino said.

“Yeah,” muttered Adrien, smiling. Marinette felt like she might melt. His smile was an honest smile, one that reached his eyes. Once upon a time, he rarely smiled like that. Now, it was becoming more and more common.

“Do you think he’ll be okay with you going camping with us?” asked Alya excitedly.

Camping. That was another something new. Marinette used to avoid commitments like that, ones that would draw her away from the heart of Paris for too long. However, ever since Hawkmoth willingly surrendered his miraculous back to the Guardian, Marinette hadn’t needed to be as alert. Besides that, there were three other superheroes that could guard Paris - Rena Rogue, Carapace, and Chat Noir. Marinette’s superhero partners all regularly patrolled Paris, albeit on separate schedules now-a-days (due to being too busy for patrol coordination).

Paris could go a few days without Ladybug.

“I, ah, well, I think so,” Adrien replied nervously. The tab snapped off his soda, broken by his fingers increasing zeal. His whole face was a mixture of giddiness and apprehension. 

The strange feeling came back to Marinette. There was something there, something to notice. Her eyes drank in features she was already well acquainted with: blonde hair, green eyes, and restless fingers that were now toying with the severed soda tab.

Today, Adrien was wearing a black hoodie. There was something about that too, something off. Marinette stared at it, frowning as her head began to throb again.

“Hey, uh, Marinette, are you okay?” Alya’s question snapped Marinette out of her strange reverie. Blinking in confusion, Marinette noticed that Adrien was watching her curiously. Heat rushed to her cheeks and Marinette swiveled her attention down to her half-eaten sandwich.

“Oh, um, yea, I’m-I’m-I’m good.” Oh lord, she was stuttering again. Marinette mentally smacked herself. A concussion was no reason for her to revert back to being borderline non-functional around Adrien.

_Boom!_

A loud crashing noise shattered the peace of the afternoon. Marinette lurched to her feet, her damaged brain kicking into autodrive. _Akuma_ , was the first thought through her mind, even though was impossible. Still, the muscles in her body tensed and she glanced around frantically, trying to locate the problem. Concussion or not, Ladybug was always ready to save the day.

“You dick!” screeched a certain pompous blonde, “You dented my baby!”

About twenty meters away, at the edge of the parking lot, Kim was sheepishly scratching his cheek. He said, “Oh, whoops, my bad.”

That apology seemed not to be good enough for Chloé. She kept screeching, her finger rotating between jabbing towards the dent in her Mercedes to the offending soccer ball, a few meters away.

Marinette sighed in relief. _Silly,_ she told herself, _you’re getting worked up over nothing_.

Similar sighs echoed hers. Marinette’s attention snapped away from Kim’s misfortune and over to her friends. All three of them were standing too, looking as tense as she felt.

_Strange._

_Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange._

Her brain was misfiring, with that word repeating in her thoughts so many times that it lost its meaning. She couldn’t help but stare at each of her friends in turn.

Adrien.

Nino.

Alya.

She watched as their faces relaxed and then became apprehensive, like kids who’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Alya smiled guiltily, Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled, and Nino looked unsure. The latter was still glancing around, as if wanting to make certain nothing was amiss. 

 _But, why?_ It was one thing for Marinette to react like she did. She was secretly Ladybug and always high alert for akumas. But, her friends? 

Before she could think about it any more, the sun peaked out from behind a cloud and stabbed at Marinette’s poor retinas. Meanwhile, Chloé’s screeching continued to increase in pitch, attacking Marinette’s eardrums. Both of these things caused the pain in her battered brain to skyrocket, throwing her off balance. 

Grunting, Marinette slid back to the ground and grabbed her head. Her broken, crazy head.

“Marinette!” The others gasped, and hands gently grabbed her shoulders.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she whispered. The hands on her shoulders squeezed softly, and Marinette peaked her eyes open a bit. Two green eyes, embedded in a beautiful face, was hovering not too far from her own. Adrien. Adrien was crouched down in front of her, holding her steady. Selfishly, Marinette allowed herself to drink it in, to enjoy this momentary closeness.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, frowning with concern.

“Yes,” she couldn’t help but smile at his concern. He was so sweet, and always so prepared to protect her. That was why she, despite four years of being strictly platonic friends, still rocked a rather massive crush on him.

His right hand moved, shifting from her shoulder to gently cup her cheek. “Maybe you should go home and rest,” he told her, his thumb rubbing along her cheek. A sound that wasn’t entirely human gurgled out of Marinette’s throat.

 _Maybe my concussion has some benefits_ , thought Marinette as smiled dopily. The concussion surely had a lot of negatives, such as the pain and the unpleasant medicines (both from French doctors and from Master Fu). However, having Adrien Agreste touching her face so very sweetly like this… yes, Marinette would happily count this as a plus.

Somewhere behind Adrien, someone started to giggle. But Marinette was much too distracted to care.

She reached up and placed her own left hand tentatively over his right. “You worry too much about me,” she told him lightly, her tone playful. She was too dizzy to think logically about how embarrassing she was being.

“I always will, princess,” Adrien promised with a lopsided smile.

 _Princess_ . Her brain glitched some more. _Strange._ That word was back in her brain. But, why was it there? _Strange._ Why was it strange? Marinette tried to ignore her addled brain and smiled back at her crush. _It’s not strange_ , she told herself. “It’s okay, kitty,” she told him.

 _Kitty?_ Why did she say that? Marinette blinked, embarrassed and confused. That’s what she called Chat Noir. She’d never before slipped up and called Adrien that. Ever.

Adrien’s face suddenly screwed up, shock coloring his expression. “Kitty…” he echoed, blinking several times. His hand reached up and touched at the base of his neck, as if reaching for something that was usually there. It was a movement that was familiar, in the same way that Alya’s movements earlier had been familiar. _Black, gold,_ Marinette’s brain told her, _familiar_ . Once again, her gaze fell down to Adrien’s hoodie, drinking in the color. _Black, black, black._ What was she not realizing? Her headache was throbbing but she tried to ignore it.

“Hey!” A yelp from Kim interrupted Marinette’s puzzling, painful thoughts.

“Marinette!” Alya yelled at the same time that Nino yelled,

“Watch out!”

It happened quickly. Adrien glanced sideways. Then, cursing under his breath, he shoved himself forward, pushing Marinette backwards. His hands wrapped around her head, cushioning it as he pushed her down against the ground. Not half a second later, the soccer ball whizzed over their heads.

“Damn it, Chloé, what the hell is wrong with you!?” Alya screamed, “You almost hit Marinette!”

“Cry me a river, Césaire,” Chloé screamed back.

Meanwhile, Marinette bit back tears. Adrien had really tried to be gentle with her, his fingers carefully spreading out against the back of her skull. Unfortunately, even the slightest pressure was too much. After all, the knot in the back of her head was caused by no normal bang; she’d got it after slipping and tumbling down the Eiffel tower, like a total klutz. The only reason the impact hadn’t killed her was because her body was supercharged with her borrowed share of Tikki’s kwami powers.

“Shit, you okay?” Adrien hissed with worry. He stayed frozen in place, as if he was afraid that moving might hurt her. Honestly, it might have. Marinette felt like a twig about to snag. She tried to turn her focus on how Adrien’s body was pressed to hers, rather than how badly her head hurt.

“Well, I’m far from _purr_ -fect.” Seriously, what was wrong with her? Why did she kept talking like she was talking to Chat Noir? It was as if some ridiculous part of her broken mind was now obsessed with her black leather partner.

“Uhh.” Adrien swallowed hard, his face paling. Marinette closed her eyes, to embarrassed to hold eye contact any more.

The bell rang.

“Lunch is over,” Nino’s voice seemed to come from forever away.

“Right,” Adrien coughed nervously and then helped Marinette stand up. She was a bit awkward on her feet, but Adrien was graciously willing to let her lean on his shoulder.

“Thanks,” she told him as she rubbed at her temple. She looked everywhere but at him.

“Yeah, sure, any time,” he replied absently. Off they went, back towards the school.

 _That was a cat-tastrophe_ , thought Marinette miserably.

 

****\- - ⚕ - -**  **

 

Marinette was laying awake on her bed. The sun had set, finally bathing the world in soothing darkness. Marinette was toying with a small, black cat doll, something that Adrien had given her in her junior year. He’d won it at a carnival and had somewhat awkwardly gifted it to her. _You’re kind of my best friend,_ he’d told her, _so here._

It was one of her favorite memories.

“Marinette, shouldn’t you try to sleep?” Tikki asked as she floated over to the bed, “You need a lot of sleep to recover well!”

“Sure, sure… I was just... thinking…” It was hard to verbalize how she was feeling. All day at school, Marinette had been wrestling with that strange feeling. Over and over, she kept experiencing it. When Nino adjusted his glasses with two hands, when Alya bit on the eraser of her pencil, when Adrien stretched languidly in the middle of a history lesson. There was something bugging her about these mundane movements.

“Um, about that,” Tikki chuckled apprehensively, wringing her tiny hands together, “maybe you should, well, think less? Your mind is pretty fragile right now.”

Feeling a bit suspicious, Marinette sat up and narrowed her eyes at her kwami. “Fragile? Tikki, it’s been a week since I hit my head. Why would _thinking_ , out of all things, be bad?”

Tikki laughed a little, but the laugh was fake. “Oh, well, Marinette, it just… it’s best for you to relax right now! That’s, ah, that’s all.” But that wasn’t all. Marinette was sure of it, watching how Tikki twitched her hands together. Tikki was, undeniably, a bad liar.

“Tikki,” Marinette huffed, “I can read you like an open book. What’s wrong?”

The kwami sighed. “Oh dear. I suppose you can.” Tikki turned to look out the window and smiled thoughtfully. “Plagg has tried to teach me how to lie a few times over the centuries. It’s never quite sunk in.” Plagg was the name of Chat Noir’s kwami. Marinette had learned that from some of Tikki’s stories.

“Right,” Marinette chuckled, “the only reason you haven’t let slip the other miraculous holder’s identities is because of the ancient magic.” The ancient magic being the magic that kept kwamis from revealing their hosts as well as other kwami’s hosts. It was the reason why Nooroo, despite being back with the Guardian, could not tell them who was Hawkmoth. Or, well, who had been Hawkmoth.

“Yes, and you know that there is a reason behind this secrecy.”

Marinette sighed deeply and then quoted Master Fu, “It is for the safety of both the miraculous holder themselves and their loved ones. Identities should be kept secret until the team is ready.” Well, that wasn’t exactly how Master Fu had said it. He’d talked about _maturity levels_ and _bonds within the team_. Marinette could still remember how Chat Noir had grimaced and Rena Rogue had rolled her eyes.

Regardless, Master Fu was the still Guardian (for the time being). Yes, he’d passed his own miraculous to the new Carapace, but Carapace was but in training. Until Carapace was ready, Master Fu would be their Guardian and so his decisions, they respected.

That meant that Marinette had no clue who Master Fu had chosen for Rena Rogue, Carapace, and, for that matter, Chat Noir. Despite years of training and patrolling with them, she was no closer to figuring it out than the day she first met each of them. She hadn't even the fainest clue as to who each of them might be.

“Good, I’m glad you remember,” Tikki chirped happily, before flying away from Marinette.

“Tikki,” Marinette said, exasperated, as her kwami tore into a bag of cookies. “Why are you telling me not to think?” Did Tikki really thought Marinette would drop the subject that easily?

“Ohm, itsh cohm-phli-cay-ded.” Tikki was almost impossible to understand, her mouth full of cookie. Marinette frowned and waited for Tikki to swallow. The kwami did so very slowly, her eyes watching Marinette, as if hoping that Marinette would change her mind about the question. Finally, Tikki gulped down the last bits of cookie and spoke again, “Marinette, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to explain. I’m afraid if I explain, then you’ll definitely notice everything more.”

“Notice… wait, notice what?” Marinette asked frantically, clapping her hands to her cheeks, “Like, notice little things that are like oddly familiar, but like, they aren’t?” Her mind immediately went back to all the things that had caught her attention that day at school.

“Oh. Oh, no, I shouldn’t have said that,” squeaked Tikki before shoving another cookie in her mouth.

“No, Tikki, tell me! It was driving me crazy at school. I kept seeing my friends do stuff, stuff that felt like… I don’t know, like stuff I’ve seen before. But also like, not. Ahh…!” Oh lord, she was getting another splitting headache. Marinette flopped back down against the bed, rubbing her temples.

There was a silence. Tikki chewed her cookie and Marinette tried to stop the pounding in her head. Eventually, the kwami spoke again. “Look, Marinette... give it another week. Once you get better, you’ll stop seeing it again.” _Again?_ What exactly did that mean?

Marinette stared at the ceiling, drowning under the weight of her own thoughts and her splitting headache.

She stayed like that for nearly half an hour, the minute hand on her wall clock sneaking downwards at a deceptively fast pace. Tikki gave her space, finishing off the rest of the cookies before taking a nap at the other side of the room.

Drowsiness was just starting to tease at the edges of her consciousness when there was suddenly a soft tapping.

Marinette sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. Had she imagined that noise? Then, she heard it again, the sound of someone tapping on her window.

Chat Noir.

She could see the glimmer of his form, lit by the moonlight, outside the window. Smiling a little at this curious surprise, Marinette crawled out of bed and made her way to the window. She pushed it open and stepped back to let her favorite cat in. “I was starting to think you _fur_ -got about me,” she told him. Chat Noir smiled guilty.

“Please, I could never,” he chuckled.

Neither could Marinette. Over the last two years, the two of them had developed a strong… something. _Friendship_ , one could call it. Although, it was really something more than that. Back in Marinette’s junior year, Chat Noir had visited her almost every other night. He’d been a bit of a mess during that time, seeking comfort and friendship. Marinette had never quite figured what had caused the sudden change in his behavior, but she knew it had to do with the explosion at the Agreste mansion. Regardless of the reason, Marinette had been happy to be his rock.

He was her teammate, after all. Well, he didn’t know that, but she knew.

Chat Noir stepped close to her, invading her personal space. However, Marinette was more than used to this. His visits to her were mixed with a weird sort of intimacy. “How’s your head?” he asked, his green eyes softening.

“You heard?” Marinette shrugged and smiled, not wanting to concern him too much, “I’m alright now. But a couple days ago, your ugly face would have hurt too much to look at it.” Her words were playful, carrying no actual weight. She loved his face more than she should have.

Chat Noir rolled his eyes, then spoke earnestly. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit. I thought, maybe, you’d need your sleep. I figured you wouldn’t thank me if I woke you up in the middle of the night.” She probably wouldn’t have. Normally, Chat Noir’s two and three AM visits were no big deal. But, so soon after her concussion… maybe not so much.

“Speaking of that,” Marinette said thoughtfully, glancing at the clock, “you’re here early.” Eleven AM was several hours earlier than usual.

“I know, but I wanted to see you,” he replied with a shrug.

Then, he took another step forward and, swift as could be, scooped her up into his arms. “Hey,” she playfully whispered, whacking at his chest, “careful with me.”

“As always, princess,” he told her as he walked over to her bed. It should have been odd, this boy who wasn’t her boyfriend, carrying her like this to her own bed. However, it was the opposite of that. It was downright normal. This was just a part of their weird intimacy, which had started over a year ago.

Chat Noir liked to cuddle. And, as it had turned out, so did Marinette.

Even though it should have been awkward, it never felt that way. It just felt… right.

That’s how it felt now, as Chat Noir lowered her down onto the bed and then plopped down himself. He was already purring as he wrapped himself around her and buried his face into her hair. Her hair, which wasn’t contained her typical, cute pigtails. That was how comfortable Marinette had become around Chat Noir - she was okay with him seeing her, hair down and in pajamas

“These are cute,” he murmured into her ear, his claws poking at the design on her pajama’s tank top. Cartoon cats were printed on it, each frozen in different, silly poses.

Coloring a little, Marinette admitted, “It reminded me of you.”

Her teammate’s grin was almost blinding. She loved seeing him smile. Especially when it was a true smile, one that reached his eyes and lit up his whole face.

“You’re cute,” he whispered, his voice becoming a bit husky. Shivers ran down Marinette’s spine. Not bad shivers, necessarily, but unexpected ones, nonetheless. She chuckled nervously. _Don’t_ , she chastised herself, _that’s not the nature of your relationship_. Her and Chat were purely platonic. It was best that way. She was in love with Adrien, and she couldn’t lead Chat on like that.

That, of course, didn’t stop her from closing her eyes and wrapping herself a bit closer to Chat Noir. After a week of bad headaches and doctor visits, she wanted to indulge in this pleasant moment.

He purred and his whole body shook gently. If Marinette could have purred, she probably would have. However, ladybugs don’t purr.

One of his hands found her cheek and rested against it. Marinette sighed blissfully. There was something so very sweet in the way he touched her. Another wave of pleasant shivers ran down her spine. They only worsened when he then began to move his thumb, brushing back and forth against her cheek bone. She had to suck on her lower lip to keep herself from making any embarrassing sounds.

 _This is Chat Noir_ , she reminded herself, _not Adrien_. And yet, it was so familiar as to how Adrien had touched her earlier. She opened her eyes and found his face only a few centimeters away. His breath tickled her lips.

Green eyes, wrinkling at the edges as he smiled.

_Familiar. Strange._

Her mind couldn’t make up which it was. Both words knocked about within her brain, fighting some unseen and rather confusing battle. Her head started to hurt again and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Marinette…” he spoke softly, kindly, “Are you okay?”

“Just _purr_ -fect,” she replied sarcastically, as she rubbed her head, “you know, other than the concussion.” He didn’t laugh at her pun. She peeled her eyes back open and found him watching her, an odd expression painted on his face. Concern? Surprise? Fear? She couldn’t pin it down.

“Marinette.” His tone was almost pleading, desperate. Marinette blinked, unsure what he wanted or why he seemed almost… scared. “Do you… did you… uh…”

His claws moved nervously, tracing invisible patterns on her skin. Heat began to build up within Marinette, as well as confusion.

“Do I, what?” She whispered back.

“Do you know?”

It was a simple statement, but it felt massively important. Marinette frowned, lost. What did he mean by that? Know… what? She tried to think about it, but it was like headbutting a mental wall. There was something stopping her, crushing down on her thoughts painfully. _Don’t think about it_ , it seemed to tell her.

Her silence must have made Chat Noir even more nervous. He squirmed, somehow managing to push himself closer to her. The heat from his body seeped into her. “‘Cause, it’s okay if you do,” he whispered, almost conspiratorially, to her, “I know Plagg won’t like it, but, Marinette, I feel something… I…” He was breathing hard, his words spilling out of his mouth. One of his hands found hers and his fingers intertwined with hers.

Her head hurt so much. She was trying to think about it, trying to figure out what he thought she knew. What wouldn’t Plagg like? Hell, her head was about to explode.

She whimpered, and Chat grew still. “My head,” she whispered to him, “it hurts. I… don’t know what you’re talking about. But I feel like I should.”

His free hand rubbed gently at her forehead. Chat Noir sighed deeply, “You’re warm. I shouldn’t… stress you out like this. I’m sorry, I just thought that…” His voice died again. She whimpered and moved, pressing her head against his chest. She was keenly aware of his hand, squeezing hers. She was also keenly aware of how tired she was.

Marinette yawned and intertwined her legs with Chat’s. “I’m sorry, Chat,” she told him honestly, “I’m not good at thinking right now.”

“That’s okay,” he told her, sighing, “sleep, princess.”

Her eyes were heavy. So, she shut them and allowed herself to drift off. Thanks to her concussion, sometimes sleep came for her quickly. As she gave in to the call of her dreams, she whispered to him, “Good night, Adrien.” She was asleep before she could realize she had used the wrong name.

 

****- **⚕** - ⚕ - **⚕** -** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter of Diagnosis! 
> 
> This story is, for me, both a fun exploration of how the secret identities work in the Miraculous fandom as well as a warm-up. It's been months since I've written anything and I feel quite rusty! After finishing this story, I plan on continuing Entropy, which is my eleven-chapter Miraculous story. I apologize for the hiatus in writing - my desire to write comes and goes. :) I'm glad to be back to writing, though! Fluffy romance ain't gonna write itself, after all!


	2. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien uses Marinette's thigh for a pillow.
> 
> Marinette says too much.
> 
> Things are complicated, amazing, and nerve-wracking.

One little slip.

That’s all it had been. Her foot had just inched forward a bit too much. One second, she was admiring the moon from halfway up the Eiffel tower. The next second, she was falling, the world around her lurching into motion.

It was instincts that had saved her. Half a heart beat into her fall, Marinette had hurled out her yo-yo. It had shot upwards, seeking purchase on a beam above.

The yo-yo found its target. However, there was too much slack in the line, too much swing, and it was all a bit too late. She may not have fallen to her death, but she did smack her head hard on a beam before the yo-yo’s line went taunt. That smack was enough to knock her out.

It had been the beeping of her suit that woken her.

After vomiting on France’s most famous symbol, Marinette slowly made her way down the structure. The rest of the night was a blur, but she remembered bits and pieces. She remembered knocking on Master Fu’s door for what seemed like forever before he finally opened it. He’d been wearing Hawaiian print pajamas. For some odd reason, that was one of the few things she remembered vividly.

It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night and he was in his pajamas. He’d ushered to her and went to work. She spent most of the night there, as he fretted about, doing this and that. Marinette had laid on a warm spot on his floor, fading in and out of consciousness. She did remember forcing down some flavorless crackers and drinking some medicinal tea, though. Spicy and lemony, the tea’d helped strengthen her mind enough that, as the first rays of morning sun burst over the horizon, she was ready for the trip back home as Ladybug.

“You can do it, Marinette,” Tikki had encouraged her, “It’s not too far.” But it had been far. Marinette had vomited on at least two more unsuspecting Parisian buildings before she finally got home.

Once she was home, she went to action. She tucked away the medicinal tea mix that Master Fu had given her, dropped a random bolt of fabric on the ground, made herself cry by staring at a bright light (surprisingly easy, what with the seemingly permanent headache that’d planted itself in her brain), and then hobbled down the stairs. Her story was simple: she’d tripped on the bolt of fabric and slammed the back of her head on her computer desk.

Her parents had been so worried. They rushed her to the emergency room, where a doctor quickly concluded that she had a very severe concussion. Bad news, she would be dizzy and very sensitive to light and sound for awhile. She also needed to avoid electronics, as they may hurt her healing mind. Good news, she could take a break from school.

It also meant that she could take a break from superheroing. This was something Master Fu had to her, rather than the doctor at the hospital. That was no big deal, though. Paris would be okay without Ladybug for a few weeks. Her superhero friends would be fine without her too, although Marinette knew she would miss them. That was one of the problems with the secret identities; it meant keeping in contact with Chat Noir, Rena Rogue, and Carapace was very difficult.

Sometimes, she wished she knew them, outside of the masks.

**⚕**

“Dude, did you get any sleep last night?” Nino asked with a frown.

Adrien grinned sheepishly and then yawned again, for what might have been the fiftieth time. “No, honestly, not really. I had -” he yawned again,  “- a shoot this morning before school.” The boy wiped a small, tired tear from the corner of his eye.

The four musketeers were outside again, their lunches sprawled in front of them. It was a lovely day outside and they weren’t wanting to squander it. It was sunny with a soft breeze, which was Marinette’s favorite kind of weather. It was also excellent weather for an outdoor nap and poor Adrien looked ready to use the courtyard’s grass as a bed.

“Before school? That sucks,” commented Alya as she grabbed one of the macaroons that Marinette had brought to share.

“Eeh,” replied Adrien, shrugging, “my dad actually gave me a heads-up this time. I was supposed to go to bed early, but… ah, well, I didn’t.” He laughed guiltily.

“Didn’t what? Go to bed at all?” joked Nino, “Cause that’s what it looks like.”

Nino had a point, joke or not. There were dark shadows under Adrien’s eyes. In their morning classes, he’d fallen asleep no less than two times. “I don’t know, I think I maybe got to sleep…” Adrien closed his eyes and hummed, clearly trying to recall what he’d been doing last night instead of sleeping, “... some time past midnight last night? Maybe.”

 _Midnight._ Marinette frowned thoughtfully to herself.That’d been about when Chat Noir had left her apartment the night before. She’d woken up when he’d eased himself out of her clutches. _Stay,_ she’d whispered to him, even though it was silly. His suit had a time limit, and no doubt he had parents or some sort of guardians who’d be looking for him in the morning. Still, he’d hesitated, his black leash tail flicking back and forth, as if he was tempted by the idea.

In the end, he’d left, after giving her a little peck on the forehead. _Sweet dreams, Marinette,_ he’d told her. Then he was gone, the window opening and closing as he made his exit.

It was kind of funny that Adrien just so happened to be awake until that time too, despite an important photo shoot. What were the chances? She glanced at the exhausted Adrien sitting next to her. He didn’t say what kept him awake so late. _Could it be…?_

 _No,_ thought Marinette suddenly, _I’m being ridiculous_. It was such a silly thing to think about, so she shook her head and pushed it out of her mind.

“Does this mean you’re too tired to go see a movie with us later today?” Alya asked. Marinette rolled her eyes at the _us_ part. Alya had a bit of a problem with jumping the gun on plans. This was the first time Alya had mentioned a movie to Marinette and, judging by Nino’s amused expression, the first time she’d mentioned it to him too.

Adrien nodded, “Yeah, sorry Alya, I wouldn’t last ten minutes.”

“That’s okay, you need your rest,” replied Alya, with a casual shrug, and then joked, “we can’t have Paris’ favorite model with bags under his eyes!” Next, Alya turned to and poked her boyfriend, “How about you, Nino, you’re good with a movie, right?”

“That depends.” Nino raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend. “What movie do you want to see?”

Alya’s eyes glittered dangerously. However, before she could say anything, Nino quickly spoke again.

“Alya,” Nino said, annoyed, “no. We’ve seen it four times.”

“It’s _good_ ,” Alya huffed. Her eyes then drifted over to Marinette, hopeful.

Marinette, too, knew exactly what movie Alya was hinting at. Laughing, she put her lunch down and wiped at her mouth with a napkin. “Sorry Alya,” she said, “count me out. You’ve already dragged me to see _Endgame_ twice. Besides, I’m still recovering. Bright lights, loud sounds - no thanks. I’m not ready for that.”

The movie theaters in Paris were in no rush to remove Endgame from their rotation. That meant that Alya had had plenty of time of time to subject the whole group to her superhero obsession. Luckily for Marinette, her concussion was like an ace up her sleeve. There would be no three-hour marvel movies for her any time soon.

Alya accepted Marinette’s reasoning with a groan, before turning her attention back to her boyfriend. “Come on, babe,” she pleaded.

The couple bickered amiably back and forth while Marinette focused on finishing her lunch. Adrien was equally as quiet. In fact, Marinette wasn’t paying him a lot of attention, mostly instead listening to Nino try to talk his girlfriend into seeing some other movie that had just came out. Nino was fighting an uphill battle and it was, admittedly, relatively amusing.

A weight on her shoulder caught Marinette’s attention. Blinking, Marinette glanced sideways and found Adrien slumped against her. His eyes were mostly closed and his cobb salad was forgotten in front of him. _Oh my_ , thought Marinette, drawing a sharp breath of air. Adrien was somewhere around half awake, his breath slow. He made soft grumbling noises, as if his drowsy self was annoyed her shoulder wasn’t more comfortable.

Alya and Nino didn’t even notice. They were too caught up in their argument about whether Marvel movies were worth seeing five times.

That is, they didn’t notice, until Adrien moved again. He flopped sideways, his head falling into Marinette’s lap. Most of his limbs sprawled out sloppily, except for one hand which reached up and grabbed at Marinette’s thigh like it was a pillow. Which, well, it kinda was for him.

Marinette was trying not to have a heart attack.

Meanwhile, Alya and Nino were trying not to laugh. “Oh my,” giggled Alya, “Someone’s sleepy…”

Marinette struggled to keep her composure, despite her blush. Gathering all the maturity she could muster, Marinette chastised Alya in a soft whisper, “Oh, shush, let him sleep.” The poor boy looked like walking death. He deserved a few minutes of shut eye before class.

Besides, Marinette definitely didn’t mind being Adrien’s pillow. There was no reason to wake him up with Alya’s teasing.

Thankfully, Alya and Nino rather quickly went back to their discussion, albeit with quieter voices. When they weren’t looking, Marinette risked toying softly with Adrien’s hair. He had such lovely, blond hair. _Reminds me of Chat Noir._ The thought raced through her mind, followed shortly by a throb of mental pain.

 _Don’t think about that_ , Marinette reminded herself, _thinking hurts._

She just wanted to enjoy this moment. Here, with Adrien using her legs as a pillow. Marinette ran her fingers slowly through Adrien’s hair.

That’s when the weird noise started. It reminded Marinette of her laptop when it was struggling to launch a program. Like a sort of _whirring_ sound. Only, it seemed to be punctuated with soft breaks every few seconds. Like… breathing.

 _What the…_ thought Marinette, her eyes searching the boy resting partially in her lap. Where was that noise coming from? She wondered. Carefully, so as to not tickle him, she placed her other hand on his side.

The rumbling sound was coming from Adrien’s chest. “Impossible,” Marinette whispered to no one in particular.

With her left hand, she stroked her fingers through Adrien’s hair, brushing just above the ears, just like she did with Chat Noir. It was ridiculous, this spontaneous experiment of her. It was terribly odd for her to pet Adrien like she did Chat Noir. But, she did it anyways, curiosity getting the better of her.

Despite the impossibility of it, the results were immediate. Adrien’s purring increased ten fold, his body vibrating under Marinette’s hand. She could even feel it in her thighs.

“He’s purring,” Marinette gasped, accidentally speaking her thoughts out loud.

Her friends paused from their Marvel argument and looked over at her. Alya quirked one eyebrow up and laughed softly, “What? No way.” She leaned forward, listening. Nino, blinking owlishly, did the same.

This wasn’t right. Although Marinette couldn’t quite explain why, she really regretted drawing Alya and Nino’s attention to…. _it_. The noise. The world didn’t need to be privy to the fine details of Adrien’s sleep. That included their friends, as well. Heck, it included Marinette too, who was starting to feel like she was somehow snooping on the boy buzzing in her lap.

Oddly enough, after a few moments of listening, Alya just laughed. “Marinette, he’s snoring,” she said, rolling her eyes, “he’s just exhausted. I think you’re just nervous, that’s all.” Was she just nervous? Was the rumbling really snoring? Marinette began doubting herself.

“Relax, Marinette,” Nino spoke kinder, “take it slow.” There was something ironic about that statement, but Marinette couldn’t put her finger on it.

Leaning closer to her boyfriend, Alya whispered loud enough for Marinette to hear, “If they go any slower, their first date will be bingo in a retirement home.” Flushing, Marinette babbled what could barely be called words. Both Nino and Alya were keenly aware of her crush on Adrien, so she couldn’t be surprised much by the tease.

In the end, Marinette ended up sticking her tongue out at Alya. It was the most mature response that Marinette could produce. Alya just laughed and returned the gesture.

“So anyways. Ironman, Nino, Ironman. We have to go see it again. You know I love Tony Stark!”

“Why can’t you love Aladdin a little? Or John Wick?”

“Because no, Nino.” The two continued their argument, but Marinette stopped paying attention.

She ran her fingers through Adrien’s hair again.

 _I’m not imagining it_ , she thought, frowning. The noise rumbling out of his chest was not snoring. It was nothing like snoring. From the origin of the sound (in his chest) to it’s rumbly-ness (rather than soft breathing in and out), it was definitely not snoring. How on earth could Alya and Nino reach that conclusion? Surely they had to notice it. It was obvious.

_Obvious._

Marinette sucked on her lower lip.

She only knew one other person who purred like this. A person with blond hair and green eyes. A person with about the same height and build as the one on her lap. A person who got strangely sad after the explosion at Agreste mansion, the same explosion which had sent the famous designer (who also happened to be Adrien’s dad) in a strange, spiraling depression.

There were so many other clues. Clues that had always been in Marinette’s head, but for some reason had been compartmentalized as “unimportant.” Like how Chat Noir always went towards the Agreste mansion after finishing missions. Like how Adrien had never been akumatized. Or, like how she’d never see Chat Noir and Adrien in the same room at the same time.

All the dots connected themselves in Marinette’s head. It was obvious, after all. Painfully so.

Adrien was Chat Noir.

As soon as that critical thought appeared in her mind, so did the intense pain. Like an avalanche, it tried to smother her thoughts. Marinette whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. She moved, reacting involuntarily to the awful pain that filled her cranium.

She clung to her revelation, though. As her senses went haywire, her ears pounding with sharp noises, Marinette held that thought in her mind. _Adrien is Chat Noir_ , she told herself, _Adrien is Chat Noir_. She wouldn’t lose this thought to the waves of pain that wracked her brain. She wouldn’t let the pain take it from her.

Then, thankfully, it started to subside. The sounds around her started to stabilize; Marinette felt like a radio tuning into a signal. She heard a voice, cooing to her gently, telling her, “It’s okay, hey, you’re okay, Marinette, just breathe.” Adrien. Adrien was talking to her, trying to help. Her heart swelled.

A hand brushed her cheek, wiping away tears she didn’t even realize were there.

“I’m going to take her to the nurse’s,” she heard Adrien say.

Then his arms were wrapping around her, lifting her up against his chest. “Okay, we’ll tell the teacher,” Alya’s voice replied.

Then they were moving. Marinette focused on calming herself. Most of the pain had left her skull, but there was a pit of panic in her chest. Panic over the fact that, all this time, the boy she’d been infatuated with had been her masked best friend. Heck, she regularly cuddled with him! That meant that Adrien had spent countless nights, curled up with Marinette in her bed.

Marinette was pretty sure she could open her eyes again, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Her face was hot as the surface of the sun. It didn’t help that she could hear the beating of Adrien’s heart in her left  ear, steady and strong. _Chat Noir’s heart_ , she thought.

Cool air tickled her face as Adrien pushed through the school’s door. The hallways were loud, but the sounds were bearable. She heard a few of her classmates, asking Adrien if she was okay as they passed. “She’s got a bad headache,” he told them simply.

Marinette was starting to wonder if her headaches were entirely normal. She was going to have a talk with Tikki about it.

“Oh, dear,” the nurse said as they reached the end of their journey, “is she unconscious? Here, put her down on this bed.”

“I think she’s awake,” Adrien answered as he followed her instructions. The infirmary’s bed was hard, covered with a crinkly sheet of thin paper. A hand - Adrien’s hand - played softly with one of her pigtails. “She’s been having headaches this week.”

“Yes, well, that’s part of having a concussion. Let me go call her parents.” The nurse’s shoes clicked against the tile, telling Marinette that the nurse had walked away.

Finally, Marinette dared to pry an eye open.

“Hey,” Adrien whispered, noticing her, “how are you doing, princess?”

 _Princess._ A tiny giggle escaped Marinette. “I think my brain hates me,” she whispered back to him.

“Nah, it’s just a little grumpy,” Adrien replied. His hand was still playing with her pigtail, slipping his fingers slowly through her black hair. Gulping, he added, his voice soft and rough, “You scared me a bit, there.”

Embarrassed, Marinette looked away from Adrien, “I’m sorry. Sometimes, when I think too hard… it hurts.” That was kind of lame way of explaining it, but she didn’t know how else to say it.

The bed shook a bit as Adrien leaned on it, bringing himself closer to her. “What were you thinking about?” He asked curiously.

Marinette swallowed deeply. Could she tell him? Should she tell him? It wasn’t her business to know, but she now did. Master Fu had once told them that there’d be a time and place for revealing identities. Here, in the nurse’s infirmary, hardly seemed like the place.

Also, admitting that she knew… that would be the same as admitting, _Adrien, it’s you that I’ve been cuddling with in the dead hours of the night. It’s you, well, you with a mask, that I’ve almost kissed more than once._ Chat Noir and Marinette had never actually kissed, but it was hard to forget about that draw, considering the intensity of their weird intimacy. Hell, they’d taken naps together, heads pressed together.

Instead of replying to Adrien normally, Marinette ended up gurgling like a noisy faucet.

“Marinette?” Quirking one of his eyebrows up, his hand left her hair and traveled up to her forehead. “You’re a bit warm.”

Warm, like his body through his suit when they cuddled. _Oh my god,_ Marinette thought, exasperated, _what is wrong with my thoughts right now?_ “I’m okay. I’m just being stupid.” Her voice was raspy.

“No, you’re not,” huffed Adrien, “you’re never stupid.”

 _Then how come it took me so long to realize who you are?_ Luckily, Marinette’s brain wasn’t addled enough to say that out loud. “You’re too kind.”

“Only to you,” he smiled, and then did something crazy. Much to Marinette’s surprise, Adrien leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. Marinette became incapable of making actual words once again. He chuckled and tapped her cheek playfully. “Get some rest. Think less, if that helps. Or,” the next few words sounded nervous yet playful, “think of me.”

Clearly, Marinette must have died and gone to heaven. That whack on her head, when she slipped on the Eiffel tower, must have done her in. There was no way that this was real.

Adrien Agreste was flirting with her.

Then, Adrien’s cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat, “Ah, that is, um, if you want. I… uuh…” He glanced towards the door and rubbed his neck. “I think, uh, I’m going to go now…” As peculiar as it was, her superhero-best-friend-and-crush looked downright embarrassed at his own flirting. It was so cute that Marinette actually felt a bit emboldened.

Before he could walk away, Marinette reached forward and grabbed his wrist, “Do you want to come over after school?” She asked him, the words pouring out of her mouth.

Just like that, Marinette asked Adrien on a date.

Alya was going to owe her twenty bucks. Although, Marinette would have to survive this moment first, before cashing in on that ancient bet.

Adrien smiled lopsidedly for a moment, his green eyes locking with hers. “Yeah, okay.” But then, a moment passed and his smile fell. “Oh. Um. I actually am busy after school today. I’ve got this thing I’ve got to go to with my dad…”

“Oh,” Marinette tried not to let her disappointment show, “A, um, photo shoot?” It seemed a bit excessive to have one in the morning and then again after school, but Gabriel Agreste was very passionate about his company. His passion, unfortunately, meant Adrien got signed up for an excessive amount of those silly shoots. Some of them, like the one this morning, left him exhausted.

 _Oh,_ thought Marinette, as she suddenly remembered Adrien’s lack of sleep. Caught up in her own massive realizations, she’d completely forgotten that Adrien needed sleep. He wasn’t yawning at the moment, but he still had the dark shadows under his eyes. _He needs to sleep_ , she thought with guilt.

“Oh, no, ah, it’s ah, ah, a thing,” Adrien looked really uncomfortable. He looked down at where Marinette was still holding onto his wrist.

A _thing_. Maybe this was just Adrien’s polite way of saying no. It was probably because he was downright tired and needed to go home and crash (which was very understandable). This train of thought was very logical.

However, there a tiny part of her mind that began to panic. What if Adrien just didn’t like her like that? What if what she thought was flirting was just him, being friendly? This train of thought was dramatic and pessimistic, but Marinette couldn’t help it. She was just a teenager, and teenagers were allowed mental hyperbole.

She let go of his wrist.

“Oh, okay,” she whispered, looking away from him. _I’m just Chat Noir’s friend_ , she thought, _and I’m just Adrien’s friend_. She had no right to get her hopes up.

The bed shifted as Adrien stepped closer, bumping into it. His hands clenched onto the little guard rail at the side of the medical bed. Marinette dared to meet his gaze once again. The boy looked torn. “I’m sorry Marinette, I can’t cancel. It’s sort of… ahh…”

“No, it’s-it’s fine, y-you don’t have to tell me,” stuttered Marinette, feeling guilty. Why was she being so ridiculous? Adrien had literally passed out not five minutes ago. He was tired and busy. _Busier than I’d known_ , she thought to herself, what with superheroing as well as modeling filling his schedule.

“It’s our weekly therapy session,” Adrien blurted out.

 _Therapy?_ Marinette blinked owlishly at Adrien, surprised. “Oh,” was all that she managed to say.

Adrien was bright red. “Ever since… a while ago, um, my father, he’s been trying to, I don’t know, change, and um, we started, like, going together, and it’s actually really good, but it’s also really embarrassing, and, um, but I can’t miss it and, uh…”

“That’s wonderful,” Marinette told him, her voice firm yet kind. She reached out again, putting her hand on top of his, and repeated herself, “Seriously, Adrien, that’s wonderful.”

Her favorite boy on the planet dropped his gaze to the ground shyly. She watched as his other hand reached up to touch at the base of his neck. _Where his bell usually is_ , she realized. She’d seen Chat play with that bell a hundred times.

“Thanks,” Adrien told her, his voice rough with emotion. “Marinette…” He picked up his gaze and met hers. “Thank you for always understanding.”

“Okay, so I talked to her parents.” Both of them startled, having forgotten about the nurse. She walked back into the infirmary, her shoes clicking on the tile. “Ah, I see you’re awake. Well, anyways, your parents will be here soon to pick you up.” The nurse looked pointedly at Adrien, “You can go back to class, young man.”

“Yes ma’am,” Adrien replied politely. The nurse stepped to the other side of the room, giving them one last moment of privacy. “Marinette,” sighed Adrien, as he flipped his hand around, intertwining his fingers with hers. Squeezing her hand, he promised, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tomorrow. Tomorrow was an eternity away.

“Tonight,” Marinette told him, her selfish impulses getting the better of her.

Tilting his head in confusion, Adrien repeated, “Tonight?”

“I’ll leave my window unlocked,” she promised absent-mindedly, “we can nap.” Her brain was already mixing the two, Adrien and Chat Noir. It wasn’t until Adrien’s face changed, his eyes widened and his mouth falling open, that she realized she had said too much.

Adrien didn’t visit her through the window. That was Chat Noir. Not to mention the napping aspect, which was also exclusively a Chat Noir thing.

“Uh.”

“Uh.”

They both stared at each other. Marinette knew she really should say something, undo the damage. _I’m joking, of course, haha, how could you, normal, non-magical Adrien, climb up four stories? Hahaha. Also what, napping? That’d be weird, what’s wrong with me? I definitely don’t have a habit of cuddling with strangers who come through my window at night._ But before Marinette could attempt any sort feeble damage control, the nurse walked back over, shoo-ing Adrien out.

**⚕**

Marinette sat behind the counter of the bakery, watching her parents serve Parisians a wide variety of delicious pastries. Annoyingly, her parents wouldn’t let her help. “You should be resting,” her mother said, “you came home from school early today because of your headaches. And now you want to work? Marinette.” The way Sabine Dupein-Cheng said her daughter’s name was with firm mother-disapproval.

“I feel better now,” complained Marinette, crossing her arms. It was true, her head was feeling leaps and bounds better. Marinette was starting to feel normal again.

“No, Marinette,” her mother stated flatly.

 _Ding_ , chimed Marinette’s phone. Pulling it out, Marinette read the text message.

“Marinette,” her mother’s voice was exasperated, “seriously. Put down the phone, go upstairs, and rest.”

Sighing, Marinette slipped her phone back into her pocket and stood up. “Fine, okay. I’m going. By the way, Alya wants to come by after school. Is that okay?” Her parents had been picky about Alya’s visits after she’d gotten her concussion. _You need rest_ had been Sabine’s mantra for the week.

“That’s fine, but no video games or television yet.”

“Mom, the doctor said electronics were fine now.”

“Marinette.” Sabine was pulling the _mom-knows-best_ card, and Marinette knew she wouldn’t win.

“Okay, okay, no video games, no television.” Or at least, neither of those things with the volume turned on.

Marinette was halfway up the stairs when her mom spoke again. “Honey,” Sabine said, and Marinette hesitated, looking back down, “you know, your other friends can visit you, if you’d like.”

Her mother must have meant the other students in her class. Rose, Alika, Juleka, and all the others. While Marinette was still friends with them, as she’d been in freshman year, she just never felt that close to them. She never felt with those girls like what she felt with Alya, Nino, and Adrien. “It’s fine, mom, I see the other girls at school.”

“I don’t mean just the girls,” Sabine added, walking over to the foot of the stairs, “but, you know, boys too.”

Blanching, Marinette spluttered, “What?”

“Well, you know, you could always invite Adrien over,” casually explained Sabine, “he’s such a polite young man. Maybe I could make you two dinner. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it be?”

Marinette was absolutely dying inside.  “Mom!” she shouted, blushing, “Don’t be weird!”

“It’s not weird to invite a boy over, Marinette,” Sabine tutted, “when I was your age, I had quite a few young men who were interested in spending time with me.” Behind Sabine, Tom chuckled and shook his head.

“Honey,” he advised his wife, his one word communicating caution to his wife.

Completely lost for words and blushing too hard, Marinette just yelped, “Mom!” before turning on heel and run up the rest of the stairs. She threw herself through the trap-door entrance to her room, her breathing erratic. Why did her mother insist on being so embarrassing?

The trap-door was still open. “Oh well,” Marinette heard her mother say, her voice carrying up the stairs.

“You were a bit heavy handed there, Sabine,” her father said, sounding more amused than anything else.

“Well, I want grandchildren eventually, Tom.” Oh lord, Marinette felt like vomiting. She could hear in her mom’s tone that she was kidding, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying.

“Let’s not rush that,” laughed Tom, “I’m happy waiting another ten or twenty years.”  

Marinette did not want to hear any more of her parents conversation. Dropping the trap-door shut, she walked away and over to her desk.

“Today’s been a weird day, Tikki.”

The red-and-black kwami floated out of Marinette’s purse and settled down on the desk. “Yes, I know,” sighed the kwami, “I’m sure you have some questions for me?”

“Will you answer them this time?” Marinette asked as she dug through her drawers. She was searching for the special tea mixture that Master Fu had given to her. Right now, she felt like she needed it’s calming assistance.

Wringing her tiny hands together, Tikki nodded, “Yes. I could feel it when you had your realization today.”

“When I realized Adrien is Chat Noir,” Marinette clarified.

“Yes,” the kwami cleared her throat, “yes, that.”

The tea mixture was hidden in the back of her drawer, shoved behind rolls of thread. Marinette yanked it out and dropped it onto the table, next to Tikki. As she busied herself with filling her little electric water kettle with bottled water, she grumbled to Tikki, “What I don’t understand is why I didn’t see it before now. Now, it seems… so obvious.” She’d spent countless nights sharing a bed with Chat Noir, playing with his blond hair and secretly admiring his green eyes. Yet, at no point, did her brain realize that that masked boy was a carbon copy of one of her best friends.

“That’s kind of the thing.” Tikki’s eyes followed Marinette’s movements, watching her as she scooped up some of the tea leaves into a little metal tea infuser. “It is obvious. You guys aren’t exactly the best actors, or the best liars for that matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Tikki paused and breathed deeply, as if judging which words to use, “if there was no magic protecting the miraculous holders, your identities would have been outed a long time ago. Teenagers aren’t exactly known for being subtle.”

This idea wasn’t entirely foreign to Marinette. In the past, she’d considered that there was a good possibility that the miraculouses made it difficult to recognize the wielder based on looks. After all, how many girls had black hair and blue eyes? Not many. Although Marinette had a feeling what Tikki was hinting at was a bit more complicated than just that. “What exactly does this magic do?”

“Well, the magic stops people from noticing things. Things that would give your identity away. It suppresses thoughts, causes people to ignore certain things.” The water kettle began to bubble. “For example, if someone was trying to figure out who might be Ladybug, your name would never cross their mind.”

Mug in hand, Marinette stared at the water kettle intensely. Her mind was rolling with thoughts. “But,” she said, “then how come I could figure out who Chat Noir was? Is my brain so messed up that the magic isn’t working?” She knew that her injury had been bad, but it seemed silly to think her brain was messed up to the point that magic was being rendered nonfunctional.

“Well, no, it’s sort of the opposite,” vaguely responded Tikki. As Marinette poured hot water into her mug, Tikki had knowing look on her face.

“Opposite?” Steam rose up from the mug.

“It’s more like, your magic is too strong.”

That response caused Marinette to hesitate, completely befuddled. “My magic? What on earth are you talking about?” The physical damage to her brain shouldn’t have caused an increase to her miraculous powers. After all, her powers came from Tikki, and it wasn’t Tikki who had a concussion.

“Yes, your magic. Well, our magic. The magic of the Ladybug miraculous. There are ways to strengthen it, which can be especially useful.” Tikki flew closer to the mug, which was full of the spicy, lemony tea from Master Fu, and touched the handle. “Especially if one is in need of intensive healing.”

Suddenly, Marinette recalled a memory from the night she got her concussion. She’d been laying on the floor, fading in and out of consciousness. Master Fu’d come up to her, holding a hot cup of tea. _This’ll make you stronger_ , he’d told her. He’d stayed there and helped her down the whole cup. Sure enough, it definitely had seemed to help, it’s warmth trickling through her body and helping her feel less dead.

“The tea,” Marinette realized.

“Yes,” acknowledged Tikki, “it’s a special blend, meant to enhance certain magics. Unfortunately, a side effect is that your magic starts to overwhelm the magic of the other miraculouses.”

“That does explain a lot…” Marinette muttered, blowing on the hot tea. It would explain why her headaches had almost felt like a fight at some points, like she’d been pushing against an invisible wall. That invisible wall had been the magic of her teammates miraculouses, magic that was intent on keeping her from noticing the quirks in their behaviors.

With a sigh, Marinette plopped herself down in her desk chair and curled her feet under her. Her mind were rolling with complex thoughts and a new headache was building up. There was one big issue: Adrien wasn’t the only one around whom she’d experienced those kinds of headaches. Hell, now that Marinette was thinking about it, she could distinctly remember a particularly bad headache she’d got from one of Alya’s visits, a few days after she’d gotten her concussion.

“Alya,” Marinetted gasped softly. There was something odd about Alya, something that triggered the same kind of headaches.

“Oh Marinette, please, let them tell you. Don’t try and figure it out,” pleaded Tikki, her big black eyes full of worry. They were probably breaking numerous protocols, what with Marinette guessing the identities of the other miraculous wielders. But, it was kind of hard to stop. It was hard to ignore what was plain to see.

However, Marinette did try to concede to Tikki’s request. Banishing the dangerous train of thought, she instead focused on her tea. It’s sweet smell filled Marinette’s senses and helped her relax. Slowly, the new headache she’d gotten by daring to think about Alya started to fade.

She sat there, sipping her tea and staring out the window. School would release soon.

“Alya’s coming over today,” muttered Marinette, as the thought suddenly popped up in her mind.

“So she is,” Tikki replied, peeking an eye open. The kwami had curled up in a spot of sunlight, at the edge of the desk.

“I’ll try not to… notice things.”

“Thank you, Marinette.”

The two of them settled into a peaceful silence for a few minutes. Faintly, Marinette could hear the sounds of her parents in the bakery and the light chatter of customers.

_Ding._

The chime of her phone interrupted the peace. Had Alya sent her another message? Marinette fished her phone out and clicked it open. Then, she gasped and blushed.

 

**Adrien Agreste**

_One new message_

 

The tea wasn’t the only thing giving her a warm feeling now. Marinette forced herself to take another calming sip of the tea before opening the message. It read:

 

**Adrien Agreste**

_So would you consider yourself a cat person?_

 

The text message made Marinette choke on air. “Oh my god,” she muttered, cradling her phone closer to herself. So, it seemed that her slip up in the infirmary had been enough. He knew she knew. Or at least, he suspected it. Either way, it explained this flirty text message from the boy of her dreams. The boy of her dreams, who also was the masked superhero who cuddled with her at night.

Marinette had no idea how she should respond to his message. In fact, she had no idea how she should respond to all of this. It was complicated, amazing, and nerve-wracking.

“What have I gotten myself into?” Marinette groaned aloud.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Tikki told her reassuringly, a hint of amusement in her tone.

 _Ding._ Another message.

Marinette looked down at her phone again.

 

**Adrien Agreste**

_Cause I have it on good authority that you’re good at cuddling with them._

 

Tea slopped out of the mug as Marinette melted right off her chair and onto the ground, whimpering helplessly. Her cheeks would be stained red permanently at this rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this little story so far! :) 
> 
> I've enjoyed writing it and exploring some new ideas about the miraculouses.
> 
> Poor Marinette's got to figure out how to reply to Adrien's flirty text messages. If you were her, what would you reply?


	3. Obvious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien text about chemistry.  
> Camembert is requested.  
> Gabriel orders macarons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been sitting, 98% completed in my google drive, for a long time. Although I don't have a strong writing desire at the moment, I went ahead and finished the last little bit and decided to throw it up. :)

 

"Oh my gosh, look at this picture. It's so good," gushed Alya, leaning in closer to the computer.

Marinette hummed and rubbed her head. A medium level headache had been plaguing her ever since Alya came over. It was only getting worse now that Alya had opened up her superhero blog. Once upon a time, the blog had only followed Ladybug and Chat Noir. Now, of course, it'd expanded to cover the two other Parisian heroes - Carapace and Rena Rogue. It was pictures of the latter that they were admiring now.

"It's really quite a lucky shot," Marinette mumbled, staring at the image. Really, it was too perfect to be just lucky. It totally looked posed. Rena Rogue was in just the right spot, in just the right position, with just the right lighting. In the picture, she was leaping from one random Parisian rooftop to another.

"Oh, yes, well, you know, I'm really good at being in the right place at the right time," Alya agreed vaguely, as she adjusted the text around the photo, "anyways, I think my viewers are going to love it. Oh, Marinette, what do you think of this picture?" Alya scrolled down to a new picture.

This picture was zoomed in, capturing the top half of Rena Rogue as she climbed over the edge of some industrial, cement gray wall. Rena's face was lit up well, showing off her golden brown eyes, which only seemed more intense with the white pattern above and black eye liner above.

Marinette's gaze drifted back to Alya. Who, just so happened to be wearing black eyeliner above her eyes and some sort of white eye liner below them.  _Teenagers aren't exactly known for being subtle_ , Tikki had told Marinette earlier that day.

 _She wasn't kidding_ , Marinette thought as her head started to explode with pain. Standing up, she told Alya, "I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be back." Her voice wobbled as pain filled her cranium, but Alya barely noticed. She was too busy adding a filter to the Rena Rogue photo.

Somehow, Marinette made it to the bathroom. Hissing, she slid down, her back against the door. Then, rather ungracefully, she flopped over to her side and curled up in the fetal position. The tile of her bathroom was cold but also comforting. There was nothing more to do now than to wait for her brain to sort itself out.

"Here," a tiny, soft voice said. Tikki. The kwami had a pill in her hand - one of Marinette's ibuprofens.

"Thanks," Marinette said, then added, "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying, I swear."

Tikki sighed and shrugged her little shoulders, "It's fine, Marinette. I can't blame you. Alya is… not exactly hiding it."

"No kidding."

About fifteen minutes later, Marinette dragged herself out of the bathroom. Alya was still touching up her photos, putting more effort into filters and adjustments than normal.  _Because they're pictures of herself_ , thought Marinette with amusement.

"That took awhile," commented Alya as Marinette sat down.

"Oh, um, yea. I think I ate something bad," she lied quickly.

"Ouch. Girl, you've got no luck this week."

"Mm, tell me about it."

"Well, anyways, while you were in there… uh, dealing with that, I was finishing this post up. Take a look!" Alya waved at the computer screen, which boosted her hard work. An entire work showcasing the dramatic and beautiful pictures of Rena Rogue. "Pretty good, right?"

As Marinette leaned in closer to the blog post and pretended to read it, she found herself thinking about Alya. For years, Marinette had been hiding her identity from Alya. Lieing, dodging, deflecting her inquiries (although, she'd had help from the identity magic, of course). Alya had once been so intent on hounding Ladybug to get the most current scoop.

About a year a half ago, that had changed. That's when Rena Rogue had came onto the scene and Alya's fascination with Ladybug had waned a little. Well, only a little. Alya was still devoted to all things superhero.

"Marinette?" asked Alya after Marinette didn't reply for several long seconds.

"It's good, yea," Marinette told Alya honestly, "you did a great job of capturing Rena Rogue."

Alya grew a huge smile. "I know, right! Maybe Marvel should make a movie with her," she sighed happily, then quickly added, "oh, and the other Paris heroes too."

Looking between Alya and the photographs on the blog, Marinette grinned a little. "Yea, sure. You know, she reminds me a lot of Spiderman." She was walking on thin ice with her comment, but Marinette couldn't help herself.

"Really?" replied Alya, looking at the photographs again, "I would think Ladybug is more like Spiderman."

"Maybe, or maybe not. Rena Rogue just feels kind of… I don't know, like a Peter Parker. Doesn't she?"

Alya tapped her chin thoughtfully, clearly processing Marinette's words. "Maybe. Or maybe she's more like Tony Stark. You know, devilishly handsome and super smart."

 _Tony Stark wasn't a reporter,_ Marinette thought, chuckling to herself. But, what she said was, "Oh yea, maybe!"

Satisfied, Alya posted her newest blog post.

The two girls spent the next few minutes casually discussing Marvel superheroes. Their conversation was interrupted by Marinette's phone, dinging.

Marinette's mistake was looking at her phone and blushing knowingly. That text message she had just received, after all, had almost definitely come from Adrien. Unfortunately, Alya noticed this. The identity magic did not protect Marinette's budding romance.

"Who's that?" Alya asked, leaning closer to Marinette as Marinette grabbed her phone and cradled it against her chest.

"No one," replied Marinette much too quickly.

"No one," flatly echoed Alya, her pupils dilating like a true predator.

"Uh… yea."

Alya seemed to hover closer, her whole body shifting closer to Marinette's. "If it's no one," Alya said, her voice fakely sweet, "then let me see it."

"Uh… no."

Gasping deeply, Alya whispered deviously, "Marinette. Who. Is. Texting. You?" There was so much excitement in her voice. Marinette wished she was a better liar.

"It's just my mom, that's all -"

"Then let me see it -"

"It's just family matters, boring stuff, nothing important -"

"I don't mind, I'm basically part of the family anyways, so let me see -"

"Oh no, it's really just bakery stuff, like, uh, uh, how much, um, flour we need to, er, buy -"

"Then why are you turning red in the face?"

"Red?" squeaked Marinette, as she whacked at Alya's grabbing hands, "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Did something happen between you and Adrien today?" Alya giggled as she attempted to wrestle the phone out of Marinette's phones. "I thought he was acting odd today after you left!"

Marinette hoisted her phone up, but then froze in her attempts to push Alya away. "Odd? What do you mean, odd?"

"Well, he was oddly smiley. And, he kept daydreaming," explained Alya.

What could he have been daydreaming about? Several ideas came to Marinette's mind, all equally embarrassing.  _This is really happening_ , Marinette thought, in shock. Caught up the gravity of the situation, Marinette didn't even react when Alya plucked the phone out of her hand. Her best friend was bound to find out eventually. If not by intercepting text messages, but by Marinette telling her. They were, after all, best friends.

"What the fuck?" said Alya, blinking, "What's with all these cat memes?"

Marinette burst out laughing. It really was ridiculous, but in the best sort of way. The last fifteen or so messages between her and Adrien had been exactly that, cat memes. They'd been having a real conversation, but it had ended up devolving into something ludacris. Which, honestly, felt perfect.

"Oh, here we go… wait, what?" Alya had scrolled up to where actual conversation existed, "What's all this about cuddling with a cat?"

Oh. Gulping, Marinette uh-ed and um-ed, as she tried to figure out a good lie.  _I snuggle with Chat Noir at night_ , hardly seemed like a good thing to admit. Besides, that would only make the situation more complicated, considering Alya's limited knowledge. Thankfully, Alya was particularly keen and somehow came up with her own explanation.

"Oh, that doll he gave you," she suddenly gasped, twisting around in her chair to stare at Marinette's bed, "the cat doll. Did you admit that you sleep with it?" Alya was referring to the black cat doll that Adrien had once given her, a long while ago.

A small, thankful sigh escaped Marinette. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's it. I did."

"That's so stinking cute," sighed Alya, "although, seriously, why did you reply with the  _surprised pikachu_  meme? Of all things, Marinette…"

Marinette could only shrug guiltily. Adrien had a way of bringing out her silly side.

Alya began to read the rest of the text messages aloud. Marinette buried her hands in her cheeks, embarrassed but also pretty happy. Each word put a butterfly in her stomach.

* * *

**Adrien Agreste**

_So would you consider yourself a cat person?_

**Adrien Agreste**

_Cause I have it on good authority that you're good at cuddling with them._

**Marinette**

_/surprised pikachu_

**Marinette**

_Now who told you that?_

**Adrien Agreste**

_A reliable source. ;)_

_But to know for certain, some scientific testing is in order._

**Marinette**

_Really, what kind of scientific testing do you have in mind?_

_I'm afraid science isn't necessarily my strong suit._

**Adrien Agreste**

_How about chemistry, how good are you at that?_

* * *

Adrien had followed up that message with a cat meme. A fluffy white cat in glasses and a bow tie was captioned:  _You must be copper and tellurium, cause you're a CU-TE_. After reading the caption aloud, Alya shook her head. "This is both cute and a bit painful," she joked, "you two are dorks."

* * *

**Marinette**

_Chemistry is good. But how about biology?_

* * *

This time, it had been Marinette who'd sent the cat meme. It was the same chemistry cat meme, only with a different caption:  _If I had a choice between DNA and RNA, I'd pick RNA, because it has U in it._

Alya snorted hard as she read the meme. Then she, as well as Marinette, began to giggle. Giggle at the memes, giggle at themselves, giggle at the situation. Both of them were much too giddy. After all, something was finally happening after four long years of Marinette having a crush on Adrien.

* * *

**Adrien Agreste**

_Princess, I think my heart might explode. What are you doing to me?_

* * *

After that message, Marinette had sent a meme of a cat rubbing its paws together. It was captioned:  _Yeeeess, my evil plan is working_.

The newest message, the one that she'd just received, was another meme. There was a smiley cat with wide eyes, captioned,  _I'm okay with this_.

"Girl," Alya said.

"I know," whispered Marinette.

Both girls suddenly squealed together, throwing themselves together in an excited hug. "I always knew you two were meant to be," Alya told her, in between her laughter, "call it a reporter's intuition."

"Well, we're not quite together… yet," but even as she said those words, Marinette's heart swelled happily. Those messages were, after all, very, very flirty.

For the next half an hour, the girl girls gossiped heavily, discussing the past and the future. Marinette let herself be optimistic, discussing first dates and first kisses. Admittedly, this was far from the first time the two of them had had these kinds of conversations. However, this was the only time it'd had any real chance of happening. It'd always been just a pipe dream before.

Much too soon, Alya had to go. Marinette's mom popped her head into Marinette's room and told her, "you need your rest."

As she left, Alya winked at Marinette, "Good luck,  _princess_."

Marinette waddled over to her bed and flopped down face first. Her head was still sore, but she was paying more attention to the patter of her heart. Her favorite piece of technology, her phone, her channel for communication with Adrien, she held gently against her chest.

 _Ding. Ding. Ding._  Several more messages arrived, rather back-to-back. Each time Marinette started to reply to them, another would arrive. By the end, replying seemed like a mute point. So instead, Marinette just laughed and showed the messages to Tikki, who rolled her eyes and smiled.

* * *

**Adrien Agreste**

_psssst buy chees pls, put it in ur frige_

**Adrien Agreste**

_good chees_

**Adrien Agreste**

_camamburt is best but brie is ok 2_

**Adrien Agreste**

_OMG please ignore that, that wasn't me, obviously_

**Adrien Agreste**

_no dunt ignore it i need chees_

**Adrien Agreste**

_I'm so sorry, I'll explain later, but you don't need to buy cheese_

**Adrien Agreste**

_u do ned 2 buy chees its for paris safty_

**Adrien Agreste**

_I'm going to turn off my phone now, he keeps fighting me for it. I'll talk to you later, Marinette._

* * *

Soup was good for concussions. That's what Marinette's mother had decided. "Soup's good for everything," Sabine had added, as she'd filled Marinette's bowl.

Marinette knew better than to argue with her mother. So instead, she just smiled and told her mother, "Thanks mom. You're the best." Marinette knew she was blessed to have a mother as sweet and caring as her own.

So, she sat in the kitchen, blowing on the soup and slowly slurping down the golden goodness. Her parents were still working, busy with baking new treats and serving the Paris nightlife. The soft chatter of voices floated into the kitchen, like gentle background music.

"Is Marinette here?" A very, very familiar voice asked, a little louder than the rest of the chatter. Marinette dropped her spoon so fast that she splattered soup onto herself.

"Shit, shit," she cursed quietly as she jumped up and grabbed a dish towel.

As she tried to wipe the soup stain again, she heard her mother reply, "Why yes she is. Let me go get her."

 _Adrien, Adrien's here,_ Marinette thought frantically, as she rushed over to the ovens and checked her hair in the glass's reflection. She was suddenly nervous from head to toes. When she had invited Adrien to visit her earlier that day, she hadn't quite meant at dinner time. If she had, she would have fixed her pigtails and changed into something cuter. There was a tiny voice inside her head screaming in shy panic.

"Honey, what are you doing?" asked Sabine, although her smile was rather knowing.

"Um. I was just, ah, checking to see how done these pastries were," lamely replied Marinette, pointing vaguely at the oven.

"That oven's empty, Marinette," Sabine chuckled.

"Oh. Is it? My bad. Ha… ha."

Shaking her head, Sabine said, "Your friend's here. Why don't you come say hi?" As if it was that simple. One did not simply say hi to the boy they were in love with. No, it was much more complex than that. Had her mother ever seen those animal documentaries? Love was a sophisticated and chaotic dance. Marinette was a Bowerbird with an incomplete nest.

"Okay," squawked Marinette, before robotically following her mother out of the kitchen and into the fire.

Surprisingly, it wasn't only Adrien who was waiting at the counter. His father, the great designer Gabriel Agreste, was standing next to him. While Adrien looked cheerful, a big grin on his face, his father looked quite a bit uncomfortable. The older man was frowning slightly, his eyes darting around the cafe as if the place was unlike any place he'd seen before. That was possible, though. Gabriel was known for being recluse.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Tom told Gabriel.

"Oh, ah, yes. The feeling is mutual," said Gabriel with an air of disinterest that directly contradicted what he said, "apologies for not visiting sooner. My son has spoken about this bakery on more than one occasion. I figured that... perhaps it was time to try it." In contrast to the awkward looking Gabriel, Adrien looked like he was ready to burst with happiness. Although, he also looked more exhausted than ever, with shadows around his eyes and his hair mused. It seemed like he hadn't had a chance to sleep since lunch.

Lunch. When he'd taken a nap on Marinette and she'd realized that he was Chat Noir. That had only been a few hours ago.

Marinette and her mother approached the counter. Marinette was more than aware of how quickly Adrien's gaze found her. Under his gaze, there was a chance that she might start melting.

"Hi Marinette," he said.

"Hi Adrien," she said. Why did such a simple greeting feel so awkward and yet also monumental? It didn't help that both of her parents were watching her with a twinkle in their eyes.  _Oh my god,_  Marinette thought with utter embarrassment. She refused to look at either of her parents directly, instead settling her eyes on the display cases full of macaroons and eclairs.

"Marinette, good to see you again." There was a hint of curiosity in Gabriel's greeting. However, he was eyeing his son rather than Marinette. Clearly, Gabriel was not blind to his son's, well, interest. Marinette turned even redder.

"Nice to see you again, too," she replied simply.

Thankfully, Sabine was there to spearhead the conversation, as Marinette was in no state to. "It's lovely to see you spending time with your son," Sabine pointed out, smiling honestly, "I understand how time consuming running a company can be." The Dupain-Chengs were not strangers to a busy business. After all, they owned and ran their own bakery.

"Yes, well…" A deep sigh escaped Gabriel and he seemed to soften, like butter in the heat, "I've learned the hard way how important can be. You never know when you are going to lose someone."

No one had been prepared for such a depressing statement, made so out of the blue. All four of them undeniably knew who Gabriel was talking about. Heck, the majority of Paris knew the tragedy of the Agreste family. They knew of how his wife, Adrien's mother, disappeared. Murdered, kidnapped, ran away - no one knew for sure. But Emily Agreste had been such a lovely lady, that the options were rather grim as to what must have happened.

Adrien cheerful expression fell, his energy vanishing like a balloon popped. He finally matched his exhausted appearance. Tom coughed awkwardly and muttered something about muffins needing to come out of the oven, and excused himself. Marinette began to wring her hands together, her heart aching for the mother that Adrien had long ago lost.

Once again, they could all thank goodness for Sabine. Sabine, with her mother intuition and bright spirit. The middle-aged Chinese woman was still smiling, although it was softened now, her brown eyes amber in the glow of the cafe lights. "I think," she spoke gently, "Adrien looks a lot like Emily."

The corners of Gabriel's lips slowly upturned, in what was the most honest smile Marinette had ever seen him bear. "Yes, I think so too," he agreed, looking at his son, "she would be proud of him, I'm sure."

For a long moment, Adrien just stared at his father, his mouth ajar. It didn't seem like the Agreste heir was used to hearing such compliments. Then, Adrien's whole face changed again, the energy returning as well as some color. His grin was small and controlled, but Marinette could see how excited he truly was. Adrien's green eyes were always very expressive and she'd long ago learned how to read them.

It was beautiful. Not the model (well, he was too), but rather the situation. Marinette was happy to see Adrien happy. His relationship with his father had always been tenuous at best.

"It's been hard without mom," Adrien spoke up, "but we're staying strong." He looked at Sabine when he was talking, but Marinette had the feeling the words weren't just meant for her.

Gabriel nodded, and added with a sigh, "Yes, these two years have been hard."

 _Two years?_  Marinette tilted her head, confused. That wasn't right. Emilie Agreste had disappeared when she'd been young. That had been more around five years ago.

Marinette wasn't the only one to notice the peculiar mistake. Adrien frowned and glanced at his dad, now looking worried. "Five years, father."

"Hm?" Gabriel blinked several times, before gasping, "Ah! Yes, of course, five years." Clearing his throat, Gabriel put his hand on his son's shoulder, smiling as if it had been nothing more than silly mistake. "This is why I need a vacation. Sometimes I say one thing, but I mean another." Gabriel sounded a bit too jolly, considering the weighty subject.

Before Marinette could wonder more about Gabriel's odd behavior and quickly shifting attitude, her mother announced, "Why don't we try some macaroons? Monsieur Agreste, what is your favorite flavor?"

"Oh, well, I suppose I'm partial to strawberry."

Marinette and Adrien made eye contact while Sabine and Gabriel discussed macaroons. Adrien shrugged.  _Parents,_  his shrug seemed to say,  _I don't understand them._  Marinette smiled and shrugged herself.  _Neither do I_ , she tried to say wordlessly.

While Gabriel tried no less than eight flavors of macaroons, gushing over the quality, Marinette stood awkwardly across the counter from Adrien. She wanted to make conversation, but she was honestly much too shy to. With her mom and his father two meters away, Marinette just couldn't. Luckily, she wasn't the only one. Adrien seemed just as nervous as her.

He kept playing with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands and swiping at the black screen. It made Marinette gulp. Somewhere, in that electronic device, was a rather flirty text message conversation. Oh, and some odd text messages asking for cheese.

"Mrs. Dupein-Cheng, I would like to order a selection of your macaroons," Gabriel said, after dabbing at the corners of his lips with a napkin.

"Oh, sure, absolutely," Sabine replied as she picked up a pen, ready to write down the order, "how many would you like?"

"Hmm," Gabriel frowned thoughtfully, "I suppose five hundred would be sufficient."

Sabine dropped her pen. It clattered to the floor noisily. "Oh, dear," she breathed, "pardon me. Let me just confirm. F-five hundred?"

Gabriel turned to look at his son, who looked about ready to start laughing, "Do you think that's enough, Adrien?"

"I don't know, father. I could probably eat fifty a day. How long are they good for?"

"Oh, don't be silly," his father told him, rolling his eyes, "these will be for the company. Nathalie tells me my employees could use a moral boost. If they can't boost moral, well then I don't know what will. Yes, five hundred will do for now."

"Right, five hundred then." Sabine had recovered her composure and wore an effortless smile now. "What flavors would you like?"

"A mix of flavors would be preferable."

As Gabriel fished out a fancy black credit card and Sabine talked to him about preparation time, delivery, storage, Adrien inched closer to the counter. Marinette followed his lead, although she did so subtly, innocently watching her mother as she scooted towards the glass display.

 _Don't notice us_ , thought Marinette as she watched their parents process the transaction, we're not  _doing anything suspicious_.

Adrien leaned across the counter. "Marinette," he whispered, "do you still plan on leaving your window unlocked?"

Shivers raced up Marinette's spine, but she did her best to maintain her calm composure. "Yes," she whispered back, "but I don't have any cheese."

Adrien flushed, "Don't worry about the cheese."

Then, the tiniest voice spoke up, "Yes, worry about the cheese." Marinette wasn't quite sure where it came from, but she was pretty sure who it came from.  _Plagg,_ she thought. That must have been Plagg's voice.

Adrien poked hard at his chest, his face red, "Shh, you," he whispered through his teeth, clearly not speaking to Marinette. Meanwhile, while he chastised his kwami, her own was giggling. Tikki was tucked under her light jacket and clearly listening to the whole conversation.

"Excellent doing business with you," Gabriel Agreste loudly told Sabine.

"Of course. I'll phone your assistant when the order is ready."

Marinette and Adrien stood up straight, as if they hadn't just been engaged in a secretive conversation.

"Adrien, shall we?" Gabriel asked in a formal fashion.

"Right, of course," Adrien quickly agreed, "just one second, please."

Adrien leaned across the counter again, despite their parents watching them like hawks. He reached forward and gently grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him. For half a second, Marinette thought he might kiss her (she forgot how to breathe momentarily). Instead, he just whispered in her ear.

"Honestly, if I don't take a nap soon, I'm going to die. But I'll be there. Tonight. Around my usual time," he added the last bit playfully. By his usual time, Adrien clearly met Chat Noir's usual time of two or three AM.

Marinette forgot how to do words. As she fought a dopey smile that threatened to betray her excitement at his promise, she whispered back simply, "Okay."

Gabriel cleared his throat loudly.

"Tonight," repeated Adrien in an excited whisper.

"Get camembert," another voice added so softly that Marinette wasn't sure if she had imagined it.

Adrien followed his father out of the bakery. They both climbed into a long, fancy limo, and then were gone.

A happy sigh escaped Marinette.  _Tonight,_  he'd said.

That's when Marinette realized that her mother was watching her. Sabine looked very, very pleased. Pleased, for reasons beyond the huge sale. "So," her mother prompted, a glimmer in her eye.

"I am not talking about it!" Marinette immediately yelped, before twisting on her heel and all but running towards her room. Her mother's laughter seemed to follow her up the stairs.

- **x**  -  **x**  -  **x**  -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /surprised pikachu
> 
> I know what you are all wondering.
> 
> Will she get camembert?
> 
> Oh a more serious note, I do apologize for the delays, by the way. As this is my hobby, I only write when I get the drive to write. I do my best writing then. That drive comes and goes. Good news is, it always comes back. When it wants to... oh well!


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